Past, Present, Future
by I Am The Silver Lining
Summary: Lunarmis was a great friend of Megatron and Optimus, before the war. Now Lunarmis is a neutral bot and doesn't want to fight her two best friends. What will be in the future? Will be 4 chapters
1. Past

Lunarmis strode across the destroyed streets of a Cybertronian city with feline like grace, her body concealed in the silver mist that the city produced. Her silver paintjob came in handy in this city, and her sharp gold optics could scan through the mist for anyone that would cause her harm. She was a neutral in this pointless war, that and that the leaders of both sides were her life-long friends; Megatron and Optimus Prime. She grew up with them, and the three of them were inseparable; or so Lunarmis thought. Back then she was known as MoonStrider and they were known as Megatronus and Orion Pax. The three of them were very close and they shared many of the same ideas, like getting rid of the cast system. But Megatronus started to take it too far, he conjured destructive riots and started to kill cast officials; but he was still their friend. But then Orion and I were named Primes, and our first names changed to Optimus and Lunarmis. That was when Megatronus left. A few months after, Decepticons attacked Iacon, the Autobot base, and they were led by Megatronus, and he declared himself to be now named Megatron. Optimus fought Megatron. Optimus didn't want to hurt the mech that had been his brother for so many vorns, and he managed to drive him away, but with many injuries; physically and mentally. He was never the same after that, the only time he was the same was with Lunarmis, but even she was hurt my Megatron's actions.

Lunarmis became neutral after this, she could never hurt her friends, and Optimus didn't judge her for this. But she stayed with Optimus, being an anchor for him in this troubling time, when he needed her most. Then neutral bots body's started to be found, with the signature of the Decepticons. Optimus never let Lunarmis out of his sight after that, she didn't mind because it meant that she could watch him, too. But then Praxus was destroyed.

Lunarmis was stuck behind when the Autobots fought to safety, being that ruble fell in front of her chambers and she had to dig herself out. And by the time she did, everybot was gone, like a cloud of death had just swept through and devoured the battle. She picked around and found some energon for herself, for she had only 12% left and was getting lower by the nanoklick. She then proceeded to sneak out of Praxis.

The city was vacant in Lunarmis' scanners, not an energon signature in sight. She strode over the rubble and glass shards, keeping her eyes ahead as to not see the familiar bots that littered the ground. They didn't get how hard this war was on her. Not only did she have to worry about the Autobots, she had to worry about the Decepticons, too. Her pain doubled any others when she had to see not enemies, but only friends fall at the hand of others. Optimus was better at understanding the pain, but he wasn't friends with the mechs and femmes she was. She had to watch her friends slaughter each other in this pointless war, and then scrounge the shells of the dead like starving scavengers. Lunarmis wished she could just talk to Megatronus (she refused to think of him as someone different than her old friend), and hopefully talk him into seeing reason. She knew her old friend was in there somewhere, no matter how deep.

Static erupted from Lunarmis' comm. link.

::Cybertronian, identify:: A garbled, distorted voice commanded over her communications. Lunarmis scrunched her faceplates together at the rude tone.

::I would suggest a removal of that nasty aft tone out of your mouth, scraper:: She bit back harshly ::And I don't got to tell you jack shit about my identity:: An old human curse slipped into her vocals as her frustration from the past few solar-cycles built up. ::I've been havening' a really slagging cycle and I don't care if you're a bot or a con but you better clean up your tone now or so help me, I will strangle you through the comm. link!:: Lunarmis's vents were on full and were trying to cool her rapidly heating body.

::Lunarmis?:: Suddenly the voice wasn't so distorted.

::Optimus!::

::Oh thank Primus you're ok! What's your position?::

::I'm still in Praxus:: she heard an intake of air vents.

::You need to get out of there, right now.:: Panic laced the mechs voice.

::What is it, Optimus?:: Lunarmis asked urgently.

::Praxus is completely overrun by Decepticons. Megatron is somewhere still inside.:: Lunarmis made a quick intake of air. She knew that she had to stay hidden from the Decepticons. Because they, unlike Megatron, wouldn't hesitate to kill her.

::I'm on my way.:: She breathed out Just keep talking to me

::Alright:: he said steadily ::get to the edge of the city, the docks if you can. We'll meet you there::

The two proceeded to talk, about whatever they wanted, just dancing around their worry of the current situation. They were open with each other, more than with anybot else. They were truthful and could read each other like open books, even when they were applying their training. They could and would never hide anything from each other.

::Wait, I'm picking up a signature:: Lunarmis stated.

::Lunarmis, get out of there!:: A rare panic in his voice that he saved only for her, seeped into his voice.

::It appears to be an Autobot signal::

::Lunarmis, it could be a trap! Get out of there!::

::Optimus,:: She cooed gently ::you know I can't do that:: She heard a sharp intake of a vent.

::Please:: he begged::be safe::

::The mighty Optimus Prime begging, the pit has brightened!:: Lunarmis joked, trying to lighten the downcast mood.

::Only for you he whispered back.:: Lunarmis bit back her words for a moment as she realized his sincere devotion. She was always honest with Optimus, how could she not be. The love she had for him as a friend covered any relationship the two could ever have. Lunarmis knew that she had a large chance of losing one, if not both, of her younglinghood friends, and she couldn't stand the thought of losing a lover or spark-mate. And she would never put another through the pain when she was to offline.

Always Optimus Lunarmis replied in a hushed whisper, trying to pull that emotion back before it crept into her voice and started something she couldn't stop, and probably wouldn't even try to. Her mind went back to those few nights with Optimus, the nights when both needed a distraction from the pain of betrayal and death of friends. And in the morning they would wash up and go on like usual. Both understood that this was war, and if they got too intimate, it would just cause more pain and stress. But their sparks longed and loved the other, but they kept it to themselves. But the occasional gentle touch passing in the hall, the loving glances they held when no one was looking, and their conversions they held that were laced with well hidden emotions; told them everything in confirmation that the other felt the same. And that's all they needed now.

Lunarmis climbed over rubble to get to the Autobot signal. Glass crunched under her peds as she got closer. She slid down a hill that was once a building, and saw the fallen Autobot. Racing down the hill, Lunarmis landed next to the fallen Autobot.

"Are you awake? Hello, are you online?" Lunarmis called, trying to rouse the downed mech, but failing. She began to use what medical knowledge she could to patch up the Autobot, and was so distracted that she didn't notice the energon signals creeping up on her. Until she was knocked over the helm with a support beam.

She toppled over, landing on her front, disoriented and dizzy. The mech that wacked her over the head smashed the end of the beam into her back as she tried to sit up. A large dent was now in her back plates. The mech went to hit Lunarmis again, but she activated her back spikes, and electricity. The beam was skewered onto the spikes and conducted the electricity into the mech, frying its circuits, and almost offlining him. Lunarmis curled into a ball, trying to regained her senses, and let her electrified spikes do the rest. A few klicks passed before she regained her misplaced senses, and uncurled. Lunarmis's battle mask locked firmly onto her face, and the blades on the sides of her legs and arms came out. She quickly turned and got into a battle stance. Five Decepticons, minis the one she scrapped, stood before her with activated weapons.

Lunarmis growled at the 'cons and asked what the frag they wanted. They didn't respond, just attacked. Quickly activating her battle computer, she flipped the first running 'con over her shoulder with a cut to the neck cables on her forearm blade. A blade slinked out in between her two front balancer digit on each ped; the next was offed with left roundhouse kick to the side of its chassis, rupturing a made energon cable. Lunarmis used her momentum of the kick to launch off the ground and slice of the next drone's head with her right ped. Landing steadily on her peds while the blades retracted, she looked to the last two mechs. Quickly bouncing onto her servos, and into a headstand, she dug her balancer peds into the closest one's neck, and then activating the blade. The head fell off with a squish and landed a few feet away. Lunarmis landed on her peds once again and sent a punch to the mech. Right before it made contact a glowing blue, energon sword snapped out of the back of her servo, and sliced through the mech's armor and cut through his spark chamber.

The last mech fell to her peds as she retracted the sword. Lunarmis scanned the surrounding land for any and all signs of life. All she got was the fallen Autobot mech and her own. She then reached up and placed a finger to her audio receptor.

Lunarmis to Optimus She called through the comm. Link.

::Received transmission. This is Optimus Prime:: Optimus' spark melting baritone called out.

::Please excuse my delayed response, Decepticons ambushed me, targets offlined::

Lunarmis knew that tone in his voice; it said that their conversation was no longer private. Lunarmis concluded that he was at the currant Autobot communication central, and Jolt, the Autobot communications officer, or other higher-ups were in the room with him. The others in the room wouldn't be able to tell the difference in how they communicated. But Lunarmis could, she had known him longer and better that anybot that ever was. Lunarmis heard a snort over the communication.

::Good, less 'cons the better:: A gruff voice stated. Lunarmis smiled when she heard it.

::Always the trigger happy bot everyone knows and loves, Ironhide:: She said with a laugh. ::Ratchet the Hatchet there?::

::Don't call me that!:: Another voice snapped. Lunarmis laughed deeply.

::Oh, Don't be such a grump! We still love you!:: Lunarmis teased ::just not your bedside mannerism.:: She mumbled.

::What was that femme?:: Ratchet threatened.

::Nothing!:: Lunarmis called out in mock panic.

::That's what I thought.:: Lunarmis laughed again, then bent to pick up the fallen mech.

::Ratchet, prepare a berth in your med-bay. Got a downed 'Bot.:: Lunarmis stated soberly.

::Designation?:: Optimus piped in.

::Unknown.:: She confirmed.

::Meet my fleet at the docs.:: A new voice instructed her. A smirk crossed Lunarmis' faceplates. She knew that voice very well.

::Magnus?:: Lunarmis could wager her helm that the bots in the communications could hear the hidden suggestion in her voice.

::Affirmative.:: The mechs in the room could feel her predatory grin. Yes, she knew Ultra Magnus very well.

::Well isn't this familiar?:: She commented in a sultry tone.

::How so?:: She could hear the repressed smile in his voice,

::Oh, you know… Hearing your voice whispering in my audio receptors, but being unable to see you.:: She reminded suggestively.

::That was under different circumstances.:: Ultra Magnus' voice was heavy with suppressed laughter.

::Primus, Lunarmis! Even under the worst circumstances you still manage to exploit your conquests!:: Ironhide yelled in mock exasperation. The comm. Link burst with laughter.

Optimus observed the mechs in the communications room. Magnus' usual stiff exterior had softened into a friendlier, more comfortable stance. Ironhide and Ratchet were laughing with everyone, teasing Lunarmis and playfully shoving each other around. And he himself was less stiff and commanding; more at ease now that he knew Lunarmis was unharmed and acting like her usual 'out-there' self. Optimus smiled under his battle mask at how the femme could make the most stiff and scary 'bots become putty in her servos. She had a natural calming essence in her that could make you feel completely at ease, and she had a laugh that was infectious. Primus, he loved her. But war wasn't a time for romance and courtship; it didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

Optimus sighed. It was good to relax at Lunarmis' voice. Being a Prime and the leader of the Autobots was a stressful thing, but he wouldn't cast the problems on anyone else. He did miss the archives though, and the times where if you said Orion Pax would become Optimus Prime you would be met with a laugh and pat on the back, while they explained that Orion was just a simple data clerk, and he couldn't hurt a fly. But he did, and MoonStrider became Lunarmis Prime. Optimus' thoughts made him sigh again.

The time when he was Orion, when Lunarmis was just MoonStrider, and when Megatron was Megatronus. When the three of them were just that, with no war, no titles, and no betrayal. The three were closer than anything; they told each other everything and did everything with each other.

Lunarmis was very strange, sometimes a bit too strange. But it was to be expected, she was a reincarnated after all. Reincarnation was not unheard of on Cybertron, but when the reincarnates previous life was spent on another planet, and not even in this dimension, it turned more heads than a glitched mech.

She came from a planet she called Earth, and was happy to share her stories of her previous life there. But she only told the whole truth to Orion and Megatronus, and that this wasn't her first time she had been in another dimension.

She told them everything about her past life, the powers she gained and lost, the battles, the lovers, the deaths… everything. It was a very interesting and fascinating story, and a very long one. Apparently, before Lunarmis came to this dimension, she was very old, about 12048.19277 vorn; which, we were told, was very abnormal for a 'human'. But, when Lunarmis came to this dimension, she was reborn as a sparkling, and all her previous powers were striped from her. But she was still a very gifted femme.

Lunarmis had her spikes on her back that could generate electricity, or whatever she really wanted. Her fighting abilities were unmatchable, being that she had all her previous life's knowledge and experience. She still had to go through training, she didn't know how to use her new body, and Optimus was struck awed like a youngling seeing a pretty femme. She was a natural predator, shifting through the arena in a grace that screamed cycles of practice and patience. It took Lunarmis a few stellar cycles to train with her new cannons and blades, and in the end, she was a site to behold.

Orion was very surprised when MoonStrider came into his archives and talked with him, he had seen her when she went to the arena, fighting off gladiators like they were spider-mites on the wall, much to the anger of her creators. MoonStrider had kept coming back, and started to bring along a friend, designation Megatronus. It wasn't a surprise to see them together, MoonStrider fought Megatronus a few times in the arena.

Eventually they all had become friends, hanging around a lot, going to do Primus-knows-what with MoonStrider in the lead, wearing a visor that hung around her neck plates. It was a gift from Megatronus, too prevent her enemies from blinding her; she wore the visor everywhere now, and even had them programed into her system to cover her eyes on command, like her battle mask.

Optimus was snapped out of his past memories by a loud laugh from Ultra Magnus.

::Primus damned Femme that you are!:: Magnus laughed out.

::Naturally.:: Lunarmis retorted mockingly. The room settled down after that, but the mood was still light.

::Position Lunarmis?:: Optimus spoke.

::Couple hics from the docs.:: She replied.

::Good. Proceed to pick-up location.::

::Got it, sending visual feed.:: Static irrupted from the monitor as a holoscreen formed. The mechs in the room peered at the holoscreens' image. The footage was coming from Lunarmis' own optics, what she saw, they saw.

"Ultra Magnus," Optimus called.

"Yes Optimus?"

"Go prepare to head for Lunarmis' location." He commanded.

"Yes, Sir," Magnus saluted before heading off.

::Lunarmis, we are preparing for departure to your location.:: Optimus stated over the comm. Link.

::Thank Primus! This mech is heavy.:: Came Lunarmis' exasperated voice.

::I thought you had super strength?:: He teased. He was greeted with silence on the other end.

:: I wish, Slagger:: She insulted.

::Frag helm:: He retorted.

::Bastard Bot::

::Pleasure drone::

::That's it; you're going to offline by my servos!:: Optimus laughed. Insults were traded regularly between them; it was a thing for them**. **The Autobots would regularly hear them cursing each other out and roughhousing.

::You two are such sparklings.:: Ratchet stated, rolling his optics. Ratchet had known the two the longest, he was 157.345 vorn old when Optimus onlined as Orion, and it wasn't even a mega-cycle later that Lunarmis onlined as MoonStrider. Ratchet had been the one that the trio had come to for medical attention, and when Orion and MoonStrider had questions. They were all good friends.

::He started it!:: Lunarmis whined. Ratchet just laughed.

Lunarmis was laughing as she carried a mech, and it was causing her to stumble a lot. She wasn't very happy about it, it was scrapping her finish. Lunarmis halted her laughing as she saw some rubble come lose from a hill and tumble down. Her optics narrowed, making her site zoom into where the rubble had once been sitting: movement.

Lunarmis crouched down, on full alert. No Autobots were in the remains of Iacon, so it had to be a Decepticon. She hid the Autobot on her shoulder in a small gap in-between some fallen support beams, just in case. She pressed a servo to her audio.

::Optimus:: she whispered.

::Lunarmis? What's wrong?:: Optimus' worried baritone called over the comm. Link. The dear bot.

::Movement spotted.::

::Ultra Magnus is not in position yet.:: There was a pause. ::Lunarmis, do not engage in combat if it's Decepticon.:: The mech Prime commanded.

::Affirmative.:: She responded quietly. Lunarmis stealthily climbed the hill of scrapped metal. She didn't know what to feel at the sight that greeted her at the top.

Soundwave was there, leading a group of Vehicons, and on his arm panels was the Decepticon symbol. She sighed at that, more friends fighting and offlining each other. She was friends with Soundwave, even before he became emotionless. His emotion circuits had been fried when his intended was killed by Shockwave, and Lunarmis had been there when Soundwave had tried to kill him. But Soundwave was so delirious in his rage that Shockwave had escaped. Her only guess is that Soundwave was now forced by Megatronus to coexist with the mech that had killed his intended.

Soundwave became her friend when she helped him control his telepathy, being as one of her three friends from her former life had been a strong telepath. She showed him how to shield his mind off from the thoughts and feelings of the bots around him. Lunarmis had been very grateful to her old friend for giving her a few lessons about telepathy.

Lunarmis peered over the top of the hill, and quickly moved to a spot where some metal stuck out of the ground. It appeared that Soundwave and his group were looking for any salvageable energon and parts. That didn't seem too bad. She raised her servo to her audio.

::Optimus it appears -:: she never got to finish as something was shoved into her back and emitted a pulse that sent her body into spasms. Lunarmis grunted at the thing prodded her again. She laid there, groaning as something connected to the base of her helm. There was a ping in the corner of her vision.

_Weapon system disabled_

Frag.


	2. Present

With her weapons disabled and her limbs not responding, Lunarmis was slagged. Her vents were cycling at a fast pace, trying to cool her overheating body; her spark hummed as energon race its way through her wiring, overstimulated by whatever the Pit had been probed into her back. A large servo grabbed her shoulder plating and haled her onto her back, and she got an optic-full of her attacker.

Shockwave

Frag

Shockwave scanned her repeatedly, searching for Primus-knows-what. Apparently he found what he was looking for and stopped scanning. He hauled her up to her peds, where she promptly collapsed, her gears and mechanisms unresponsive. The mad scientist just threw her over his shoulder, and made his way down to Soundwave and the Vehicons. Lunarmis' optics shuttered, offline and on, until finally settling into a dim shade of yellow. Her vents roared in her audio receptors still, and she was unable to hear Shockwave tell Soundwave to alert Megatron that he was coming with a surprise.

Soundwave did as the scientist asked, and looked at the form in Shockwaves servos. Shockwave turned and Soundwave finally identified the bot. His emotion circuits sparked and fizzled in his processers; he felt no emotion at seeing the femme, but he remembered the emotions he used to have and all the things she did and was to him. And Soundwave come to one thought: he didn't want the femme in Shockwaves' servos. He reached to take her from him, but grasped at air when the mech pulled away.

"And why are you trying to take my gift for Lord Megatron?" Shockwave asked in his ever smug voice.

"Reasoning: Soundwave hold femme. Shockwave: have his servos free for further examinations." Soundwaves' monotone voice replied. Shockwave gave what appeared to be a shrug before disposing the femme into the communication officers' clawed servos. Soundwaves' clawed neural fibers wrapped around the limp femme in his arms, connecting into the ports in her sides and at the base of her helm. The usual information came through the neural fiber at the base of her helm, telling Soundwave what had happened to her in the past few groons. The neural fibers in her side ports told him of her functions and systems. It appeared that Shockwave had prodded her with an immobilizing energon prod, Lunarmis was now as limp as an energon noodle in his servos.

Soundwave continued searching, only to stop abruptly when he stumbled upon a 'would-be' alarming fact. It was well hidden, he had almost bypassed it, but he didn't. The thing that was hidden could change the war, tip it in the Decepticons favor; but that meant betraying Lunarmis, and causing the femme great pain. Soundwave was loyal, others only saw his loyalty to Lord Megatron, but he was just as loyal to Lunarmis, if not more. He would have followed the femme, but she was neutral, and Megatron promised great things that Soundwave wanted. The Symbots in Soundwave hummed in agreement to both statements of loyalty. There was a buzzing sound as Soundwave onlined a few extra processers to start fixing Lunarmis' shot circuits and a few fried wires.

Shockwave gave a signal and the Vehicons started to troop away to the Decepticons temporary base of operations in Iacon, the main base being in Kaon. Soundwave obediently fallowed behind Shockwave, the limp femme Prime in his servos.

"Lord Megatron will be most pleased with my capture, he might even let me do a bit of experimenting on her when he's done with her." Shockwave gloated, walking with one servo placed on his lower back, the other waving around to express his words. If Soundwave had his emotions, he would have rolled his eyes under his visor, baffled and disbelieving this mechs' stupidity. Shockwave clearly hadn't put designation to face plates, and thought this was just another normal, weak, neutral femme, looking for peace in this war. Though, Lunarmis did have her Prime markings covered. Soundwave idly wondered how Shockwave had snuck-up on the femme Prime; Shockwave was nowhere near stealthy, he tended to go with a bang and leave with a bigger one.

Shockwave obviously thought that Lord Megatron would just use the femme for his own personal needs, and then give what's left of her to him for one of his experiments. Soundwave knew that Shockwave had made a big mistake in not identifying the silver femme, and that he would be making some grave mistakes with handing the femme over to Lord Megatron. Soundwaves' damaged emotion circuits sparked again at the though, he would be feeling a bit of glee and joy at the scientist' upcoming pain. Lord Megatron cherished this femme, and would kill anybot who dare as even think of her in any form of pain. Soundwave almost wished his emotion circuit was repaired for the inevitable pain and suffering that the mech in front of him would be feeling very soon.

Sparks flew from broken machinery, fires blazed in leftover puddles of energon, electricity arched from broken wires around the group as they walked through the broken Autobot city. The Vehicons had their cannons drawn and fired up for any straggling Autobot they found, even the faintest of sparks. Shockwave kept gloating and explained in vivid detail what he had planned for the femme  
Prime, not that he knew that. Soundwave recorded every word, knowing the effect it would have when he **_did_**show Lord Megatron.

Shockwave lead the decently sized group through the once glamorous city, now in tatters and ruins. Bypassing the wreckage of the Praxian Archives and the old university in the upper-class division, the group entered a half standing building that appeared to be a base, and would later be the Decepticon High Command Aerie.

The group navigated through the halls, kicking ruble and pieces of scrap to the side when it blocked too much of the walkway. A few drones and other Decepticons passed them, only daring to glimpse at them in curiosity to what Megatron's Third in Command was carrying. Finally, the group came upon a guarded door. Shockwave walked ahead of them and went to an access panel, typing in a code that made the door's four panels shift outward and sink into the frame. The group them proceeded forward into the room, and that's where Megatron was.

The Lord sat in a throne of pushed together scraps and metal; tall and intimidating, his red eyes glaring at each individual mech in the room. He had gotten an upgrade in the last orn and his weight crushed the metal under him even as he walked, causing him to have the floors reinforced with stronger-than-normal metals. His shoulders were wide with multiple shoulder plates that flared up-and-out in an intimidating way. His chassis could have the haughtiest of mechs on their knees begging for him to take them; it was broad and covered in scratches from current battles that screamed 'powerful' and 'strong'. His helm was flat on top and came to rest on the sides, covering the sides of his face plates. He was a few feet taller even, looming of the others like a dark god, promising pain and death if his command was fallowed.

Shockwave went forward and knelt in front of Megatron's throne of scrap; showing the dark god his obedience. Shockwave stood from his position.

"My lord, I've come at your command. My project is almost finished, and when it is, you'll have an army of worth to you." He informed with a hint of excitement, overjoyed that one of his works would be complete and successful. Lord Megatron lightly praised him, only really caring about the said army to be at his disposal; that is until he saw the bundle of metal and wires in Soundwave's servos.

"Shockwave," he commanded in his ruff and grating voice. "Pray tell, what that is?" Shockwave perked up at that line of conversation, obviously trying to get even higher in Lord Megatron's good graces.

"It's a little gift for you I found on the way here, my Lord." Shockwave was a mech with no distinguished face plates, he appeared emotionless, but that was obviously not true, as even the mindless of troops could hear how high he thought of himself for having this so-called 'gift' for his master. But, this caused Megatron's curiosity to heighten even more, for the mech in front of him was only proud when he had something of great use and/or importance. Megatron waved his third-in-command forward, rising an optic ridge at the faint sound of sparking coming from the intelligence officer's helm.

Megatron was very curious at this point, taking in the appearance of the battered metal and jumble of wires in the servos of the silent (besides the soft sparking sound) mech in front of him. His face appeared to be slightly pleased, that is, until a pair of hauntingly beautiful golden optics opened and gazed into his own red ones.

He knew those optics, how could he not? He had gazed into them for joors in the past, watched them fill with pain, laughter, happiness, depression… ecstasy. So many moments when those optics had been his world, his anchor from madness, his lifting grace that never judged him, only love would be seen in those strange and bewitching optics. Now those optics gazed at him in a dazed recognition, but still filled with love.

His pleasure of the twisted metal and broken wires in front of him quickly turned into rage, directed at the gloating scientist.

"… And she would be perfect for carrying sparklings for you, my Le-" Shockwave's speech was quickly cut short by a clawed servo wrapping around his neck wires, the sharp claws drawing energon from a few of the cables. Shockwave's servos came up and grasped at the arm that was connected to the crushing servo, a deep, _rage filled _growl vibrated from Megatron's strong chassis.

"What did you do to her?" Was what the growl morphed into, while Shockwave's peds left the metal ground and was held up quite high. Shockwave pleaded that he had done nothing but shock the femme from behind, and that she was found battered. Claws dug deeper, the sparking sound from Soundwave grew louder, and only static could be heard from Shockwaves, now crushed, vocal transmitters. Megatron discarded the whimpering, one opticed scientist like trash, the con smashing into the wall.

Megatron strode over to Soundwave, and delicately removed the bundle of femme from his arms. The troops in the room were very shocked and scared by Megatron's unexpected rage and brutality the mech that had brought him this 'gift'. That was, until, their Lord spoke.

"…Lunarmis…" Megatron murmured into the wires that were suspender between the three spikes adorning the silver femme's helm. The audio receptors flicked slightly. They were very unique; the three spikes extending upwards, one at the crown of her head that extended downwards as well, making up her nasal ridge, was the meeting point of the wires that connected to the other two spikes on the sides of her helm, where normal antennas would be. The spikes on the sides of her helm also went downwards, but formed a K-like shape that extended away from the lower half of her face plates; but each side had a smaller, curved-in spike that framed her face plates, and from there is where her battle mask came from. Her visor came from the spike at her crown.

One clawed servo came up and traced down one of the k-shaped spikes in a tender way, not leaving a scratch. The mechs in the room were frozen in terror, especially one purple scientist. They all knew of the famous Lunarmis, the femme with the leaders of both factions wrapped so tightly around her digits they could be considered jewelry. If she was injured by anybot, there would be no place in the universe that bot or con could hide without being shredded to pieces by an enraged Prime and a rising tyrant. And by the looks of it, somebot tried to offline her. Megatron glared down at the whimpering scientist, his glare sending a shiver of fear down the mech's spinal strut.

"Out of my site!" Shockwave scrambled to obey his masters orders. Said master knelt down and gently set the femme on the ground, careful not to jostle her around. Finally, after a little while, Lunarmis' systems recovered and she rebooted her optics, to find herself staring up at the face plates of her oldest friend. She smiled up at the scared war Lord.

"Megatronus…" She groaned out.

"Megatron" He quickly slipped in with a hushed whisper. Lunarmis just stared up into his ruby optics.

"You'll always be Megatronus to me…"She whispered lowly, an expression of sadness on her face plates.

"Not anymore." Lunarmis continued to stare, searching for something, anything that would show that her Megatronus would come back, or that he was still there, till Megatron averted his optics. Lunarmis just sighed and leaned her helm onto the chassis of her friend, listening to the steady thrum of his powerful spark. They stayed in that position for a while, no bot in the room dare make a noise to disturb them.

"Why did you leave?" The hushed question passed through Lunarmis' mouth plates softly, full of pain. And the moment was broken.

"I had too."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. Lunarmis-"

"Not this way!" She bit a bit harshly. Megatron pulled the femme away from his chassis to give her a hard look her in the optic.

"There was no other way!" he snarled.

"By starting a war!" Lunarmis pulled fully away from Megatron's grasp. "By killing civilians! Untrained mechs and femmes!" Megatron snarled and stood, looking down at Lunarmis.

"They were weak! Pitiful excuses of scrap metal that sided with the Auto-scum. And what way other than war?!" Megatron yelled.

"You could have gone to th-"

"The Council? Don't make me laugh. They're the reason this war ever needed to happen! They would never change the ways of Cybertron!"

"**And you will?**!" Megatron flinched ever so slightly at Lunarmis' roar. "By starting a pointless war and killing the lives of millions! What will happen if you win?!"

"I will rule over Cyber-"

"Over nothing! This war will kill Cybertron! And you'll rule nothing but a pile of scraps floating around space!" Lunarmis turned her helm and spat lubricant at the ground. Megatron roared and slammed his fist onto the ground next to the femme's leg, leaving a massive dent.

"I will rule Cybertron," Megatron hissed, "And every other planet."

"You'll be a monster. Rule over and step those less fortunate, forcing them into casts and slavery. Just. Like. The Counsel. "

Silence. Utter silence, not an intake, or spark. A look of pure rage crossed Megatron's face plates, sadistic and terrifying. Megatron roared, and a huge metal fist collided with Lunarmis' chassis.

Metal bent, cables snapped, her spark chamber cracked. Lunarmis was thrown into a wall, denting it, but she didn't feel it, she felt the crack in her chamber. Pain ranked up her and throughout her whole frame, her self-repairing system went into overdrive and focused entirely on the wound in her spark chamber, the fried circuits from before put aside for later. Her optics flashed white from the pain that filled her, she didn't see the massive ped that came down and collided with her face, she felt that though. She yell was muffled as the ped smashed her delicate face plates, caving in half her face.

She had a moment to get over the daze before shock and unbelievable hurt coursed through her spark. Why was Megatronus, her oldest friend, hurting her so badly? Sure they had fought in the pits, but that was just a show, no real damage was done. They had sparred, Lunarmis teaching Megatronus some of the martial arts that she had learned; gladiators weren't given good enough opportunity to learn how to fight anything but like a savage beast, so MoonStrider offered, and Megatronus excepted. But, they never hurt each other (besides one another's pride).

"M-megatronus?" Lunarmis mumbled past her broken face. "W-w-what?" Megatron just growled in reply as she stared into is red optics, and still after all this, her love remained. Megatron read her optics; he knew what was there, so did she, for she was reading him too. Megatron picked the femme up by the throat cables, much like what he did with Shockwave, his claws piercing delicate wiring.

The said mech was still on the floor, watching with one wide optic; he had heard stories of Lunarmis and Megatron, and in them they were riddled with scenes and lines that told of them never hurting each other, of their devotion and partnership. But what he was observing defied that logic, and Shockwave was very well known for his logic, and experiments. Soundwave's emotional circuits were on the fritz, sparking and shooting out arches of electricity as his Lord punched the silver femme.

Megatron's processor stuttered for some unknown reason, his optics flaring with an unhidden rage, though what that was for was also confusing. What Lunarmis had said shouldn't have spurred this much rage in him, he searched for the source of his rage. Something flickered in Megatron's optics when he found it, and he dived helm first into the sea of hatred and anger that consumed him, not giving an ounce of fight as it fogged his processor and he couldn't tell exactly where his servos ended up.

Soundwave had thought that Lord Megatron would spare the femme, he thought that his lord would let his friend go; but no, he had been wrong, for as smart as the intelligence officer was, he was wrong. Now his lord's optics flared with rage, his large fists beating into the smaller frame, injuring her. No.

He was killing her.

This wasn't right, his Lord loved Lunarmis, with every wire and cable in his frame: something was wrong. Shock was frying Soundwave's emotion circuits, the sparks jumping around in his processor. His loyalty to Lord Megatron matched his loyalty for Lunarmis; he couldn't decide who to go with. Save Lunarmis and escape with her already battered frame? They would both die in the process, too many guarded the halls and the outside, protecting their Lord from anything the attempted to reach the walls. The other option was to do nothing, remain loyal to his Lord and stay silent. But are not the most loyal know and worry over their Lord's decisions? Worry about how this would affect them in the long run? Soundwave knew that Lord Megatron, when he returned to his right state of processor, would greatly regret this decision; few things meant more to him than Lunarmis.

Lunarmis must have sensed Soundwave's inner turmoil, for she then looked him strait in the optics. The sparks from his emotion circuits died down slowly, the broken, overcharged chip smoking slightly. The golden optics told him everything he needed to know, and what he must do, he complied.

And did nothing.

Dents and energon coated her once silver frame, the glowing blue energon pudding where her peds brushed the ground. She was mangled now, her armor no match for direct blows from one of the strongest mechs on Cybertron, it gave way like foil sheets. Megatron, one of her closest friends, was killing her, beating her frame in like an animal. She could practically see the anger and hatred radiate off his large frame, like waves of energy from the Sea of Light. Her optics flashed at a memory, of a time long ago when she was just in her second frame, a youngling.

Megatronus had snuck up on Sentinel Prime when he was gazing over the edge of the Sea of Light, and promptly kicked his royal aft over the edge. Many a mech had cheered for the young gladiator when the cranky Prime had disappeared over the edge, and into the seemingly bottomless abyss of light. But all turned tail when the rusty, but still superior, Sentinel Prime emerged back over the edge a few orns later, pissed and ready to make scrap of the gladiator. Megatronus had camped out at MoonStrider's place for a few orns until Sentinel had cooled down some, and then made a mad dash for Kaon. MoonStrider, Orion, and Megatronus had found out just how scary that bot could be when pissed, wielding an ancient Prime artifact and cackling like a lunatic.

What had happened to her Megatronus? The bot that would be immature, painting suggestive slogans on the backs of superior mechs and femmes? That would run from Ratchet after the three of them had painted him pink? That would go sliding down the sides of mountains with her on nothing but a sheet of metal with wheels under them? What had happened?

Fists rained down like the rain, energon coating them and splashing back and forth over both of their frames and staining like paint. Cries of pain and shock left Lunarmis' vocals, forced past the mushed plating and filling the room. The sickening sound of squashing metal and Megatron's growls accompanied her cries. Lunarmis forced her words from her squished faceplates.

"Why, Megatronus? Why did you leave us?" The words were soaked in unhidden pain and sadness. It was a barely a whisper, but some small part of Megaton's clouded processor caught it. His blows paused, but his had remained clutching on her neck cables. His optics were still clouded with rage, his processor still foggy in hatred; but his overcharged battle computer, which had come on before he first struck Lunarmis, finally decided to end its perceived 'enemy'.

Megatron's servo shot out.

A shriek of metal being ripped and torn.

Lunarmis slowly gazed down and saw and thick, silver arm; the servo was hidden from view, imbedded deep inside of her chassis. A strangled gasp left her vocals as the appendage was yanked out of her and something else, too. Lunarmis' optics widened at what lay crushed in Megatron's servo.

_ A sparkling. _

Its tiny helm rolled to the side limply, the little antennas matching those of its assumed creator. Its optics were large and dull, the life that had once been in it fading, and fading fast. The blue of its paint was also fading into a dull grey. No sound came from the dying sparkling, very unlike the others that were loud in their first chirps and whirls; the tiny mech just laid there. Lunarmis had not known she was with spark.

Reality was cruel, as it decided to come crashing back to Megatron at that moment, and he got a full view of what he had done in his rage. He let go of Lunarmis' neck and she somehow remained on her peds, a thump was heard and he looked at his servos. Glowing, blue energon stained the silver of his fists, tiny drops had wiggled into his wires and gears, lubricating the joints in a sickening way. Hiding the growing horror in his spark, Megatron looked down at the ground by his feet, and was met by a sight he never expected or ever wanted to see. The sparkling, its optics dull and dying, laid in a small puddle of energon, its tiny frame crushed; Megatron realized with a stab of pain that the dents on the tiny frame matched his own sharp digits. Megatron masked his face plates with a wall of indifference, and stepped away from the two broken frames.

"Let this serve as a warning and example for all Autobots," Megatron growled out, his voice not wavering an inch. He looked to Lunarmis, "And neutrals." The mechs started to file out of the room, the drones going first. Megatron left the room, not even a glance was thrown the femme's way, and then the Decepticons left the temporary base all together.

Silence filled Lunarmis' crushed audio receptors, nothing but the growing faint hum of her systems. He gaze was locked onto the unmoving sparkling, even as her optics dimmed and her body faded to a dull grey. Her legs finally gave, and she fell to her side; a spray of energon was flung onto the walls and ceiling from the puddle she fell in. Metal squished from impact, damaging her even more, but she couldn't feel the pain anymore; she couldn't feel anything. Raising one energon coated, sparked wiring, nearly crippled arm, she slowly reached out and pulled the immobile sparkling to her battered body. The room was now dark; the only source of light was the dull glowing energon… and Lunarmis' half exposed spark.

The damage done to her frame was too much, even Ratchet would deem it a hopeless case. Half her chassis was nothing but a gaping hole where her sparkling hold, and her sparkling, had previously been. Half her spark chamber was shattered, exposing the source of her life to the air; her spinal strut was severed where Megatron's fist had hit it. Self-diagnostics filtered past her vision, all showing critical damage, and that medical assistance was needed immediately. Her protoform was punctured in several places, completely crushed in others; her armor had fallen off in large places, and was smashed into her protoform in the rest. Her energon readings were past the red, and still lowering; she had nanoklicks left.

Lunarmis opened her mouth plates, and sung to her sparkling.

It was a simple lullaby, one sang to her when she had to go to recharge as a sparkling, but it was all she could do. And all that was needed. Gazing straight into her sparkling's optics, she sang for the little mech; even as the tiny optics finally flickered out and the frame grew grey and cold with death, she continued to the end, the final note ringing out in a haunting reprise for death.

Heavy footfalls were heard, and approached fast, but it was barley heard. A form moved above her, and she faintly heard her designation being called out. Her gaze filtered upward to the form, flickering as death called to her. It was Optimus.

She couldn't see colors, but could recognize him from his antenna, ones identical to the offline sparkling's. His optics were filled with the worst feeling she had ever seen as he gazed down at her and the sparkling. Her vision moved and she slowly realized that Optimus was cradling her and the sparkling to his chassis as he sat on the ground, and was rocking slightly back and forth. Lunarmis felt it in her spark as whatever bond she ever had was shredded and torn. Optimus must have felt the bond breaking, shattering in death's grip, as he gritted he denta.

She heard faint whispers from him, soothing mumbles that she was going to be ok and to please not leave him that he didn't want to be alone. She tried with all her might to say something, just one word would suffice, but she couldn't. She gathered all her remaining life and put it into her arm that wasn't holding the sparkling, the one up against Optimus' frame, and reached up to his face plates.

Her reach never made it, and her arm dropped.

Optimus' scream was heard for miles.


	3. future

Earth was nothing but a dirt ball with green stuff on it. But one couldn't deny that it had a beauty to it. One just had to look. From the mountains that were caped in ice, to the valleys flooded with water and life. Organic life. Nothing like the cybernetic life of Cybertron, but just as complex and strange. It was everything and more than in Lunarmis' stories, Ratchet just wished she was here to show them.

The Autobots had been stranded on Earth for some time now, along with the Decepticons. There had been nothing but struggle then. Struggle to feed themselves, struggle to fight off the Decepticons, to keep themselves hidden from the humans they protect.

They had gained human allies; two boys and a girl, Miko, jack, and Rafael. They had proved themselves many times that they were valuable allies after the scraplet incident, and when Jack had given Optimus back his memories. Ratchet sighed.

That was a bad day, for him most of all; Optimus couldn't remember it, and for that he was glad.

Optimus had called out for Lunarmis when he had woken up, as Orion. It didn't surprise Ratchet that much; Lunarmis had offlined after Orion became Optimus, so he wouldn't have remembered. What hurt the most was the team's pestering about the deceased femme, not that they knew that. Bumblebee was sparked after her death; Arcee was transferred to Iaccon after as well; Bulkhead was a part of the wreckers at the time. But Ratchet knew everything, he saw everything, and felt everything, too.

The visual feed from Lunarmis hadn't cut off, and they had a double perspective, as Soundwave was recording it and sent it their very doorstep a few groons after they had retrieved the frames. He and Optimus were forced to watch as Megatron killed Lunarmis. They had abandoned the monitor after a few clicks of watching and made a mad dash for the fallen city of Praxis.

But they were too late.

The sounds that came from Optimus' vocals would forever haunt those that heard it. The raw, pure agony and anguish that were emitted from the Prime were terrible and haunting, ringing in his audio for vorns to come as Optimus held his offlined love and their dead sparkling. No doubt Megatron had heard it, heard that scream of a spark breaking as strong, deeply rooted bonds were ripped and shredded to pieces.

Ratchets spark was shredded that cycle, too. He had bonds with Lunarmis, though never as strong as the ones Optimus had had, they were still there, pulsing and rooted to the core of his very being, and her death had ripped all of them away like paper. Those types of wounds never healed, and if they did, they were jagged and painful. Ratchet's spark still ached, still trying, calling through an empty bond that echoed in vacant space. Ratchet never healed, nether had Optimus, or Magnus, or Ironhide. Or anybot that truly knew that silver Prime.

Yet, they kept pestering; even after Optimus had regained his memories. Their pestering was the salt in the wound, reminding him just how much Lunarmis had meant, how she wasn't there. How she had died and he couldn't do anything to stop it! How he was unable to even save the sparkling! How he had failed her! How he had failed Optimus! He was there and couldn't do anything for her!

Ratchet grit his denta together, his optics shuttered close tightly. His servos had grabbed the console in front of him, denting the weak metal. His arms shook in repressed sorrow and anger at himself for his uselessness. Miko had been prying again, every question like a shot to the spark.

Ratchet, who's Lunarmis? Ratchet, hat happened to her? Ratchet, do you know her? Ratchet, what did she transform into? Ratchet, was she as tall as Arcee? Ratchet, what color was she? Ratchet, what did she look like? Ratchet, why won't you tell us? Ratchet, who's Lunarmis?

Ratchet!

Ratchet!

Ratchet!

_'Ratchet!' _ A voice screamed through his processor, wrenching at his spark when he recognized it, and heard the pain and sadness laced through it.

The console in Ratchet's servos snapped off in a flurry of sparks, the computer darkening at the lack of data and power. The room went deathly silent, the once pestering occupants shocked and slightly frightened. They finally took in Ratchet's agonized face plates and shaking arms, how his optics were closed shut and servos dented the detached console. But Ratchet didn't stay that way for long.

The shaking stopped and his face plates melted into a steely glare that could have Megatron worried. His optics burned through the humans and bots in the room, gladly Optimus wasn't there. Ratchet threw the console down and it slid across the floor, stopping only when it hit the wall, and then marched out of the base, steam radiating off of his frame.

The bots and their charges were shocked and frightened at Ratchets antics; they had never seen the medic that angry. They knew that they had crossed some line, but they couldn't tell where they had crossed it. Optimus chose that time to walk in. He surveyed the room with slightly curious optics, an optic ridge rising at the sight of the broken console. He then looked pointedly at Bulkhead. The said mech raised his servos up in surrender.

"It wasn't me. Ratchet did that." He tattled. Optimus was confused. What could have got Ratchet that mad as to break the computer console? The Lamborghini twins were not on Earth, and Ironhide was off in some other galaxy; no doubt smashing 'cons as he went. Other than them, nothing truly got the old medic angry.

Well, that wasn't true; a few things could get him that mad, but nobot dared try to take the medic's tools unless they wanted their helms welded to their afts. The only other ways to get the medic that mad were secrets that, on Earth, only Optimus knew. And Optimus didn't feel like being restrained on a medical berth with an angry Ratchet rewiring him to be a dishwasher. But he quickly understood when Miko spoke up.

"Yeah," Miko called up to his towering form. "He like, totally blew up! We were just asking him about this Lunarmis bot we heard about."

Optimus' processors stalled for a moment. That designation was never dared to be uttered in the past millennia. And now, some humans knew and talked of it like it was today's gossip. Years of having an emotionless mask of indifference paid off, as not one of the emotions in his spark were show upon his steely face plates. If only his optics hadn't flickered slightly at the pain in his spark, he could have been considered a statue.

Optimus leaned down slightly, bringing his face plates closer to the little organics on the loft.

"Where did you come upon this designation?" He was ever grateful for his years of practice, for his voice was the steady baritone it had always been, not wavering in the least. Arcee spoke up this time.

"After you used the Matrix to defeat Unicron, you asked for a bot named Lunarmis." Arcee informed with a slight accent of her arm, then returned to having her arms crossed. Optimus would have choked if he could.

Of course he did.

Optimus kept his steely features as he leaned back up.

"I would suggest that you drop the subject entirely." The bots and humans started to protest, Optimus held up one servo, silencing them. "It is a rather sore and personal matter, who Lunarmis is not for you to question. Understood?" His optics boor into every being in the room, his tone leaving no room for argument. Grudgingly, they complied.

Optimus turned and came back from where he came: his quarters. He entered and shut the door behind him, locking the keypad as to not be disturbed. Optimus was glad for the sound-proof walls that the base provided, as a pained whine came from his chassis, the spark residing in it calling out for its missing half as memories flooded his processor.

Lunarmis' prone frame, grey and covered in drying energon. The sparkling… _Oh, Primus_- **their** sparkling, crushed and grey, clutched to his loves chassis in a last attempt at comfort before death.

He remembered it all so clear.

Her optics, once bright and golden, dimmed down to a dull yellow. How they had flickered, growing dimmer by the nanoklick; how her servo had come up, reaching for him, but never made it. The pain, the anguish, the pure agony. The bonds that were so deeply rooted through his spark and very being were ripped so savagely from him, taking some of him with it. He wished it had, had offlined him; the medics said that, any stronger, the bonds would have. But that didn't happen; instead he had to harbor the pain in his spark. He still ached.

It hurt him more than anything to see her die, by the servos of another he loved no less.

Megatron

He was on Earth, too; surrounded by the stories. What did he feel when he gazed upon the planet that they had heard so much about? The planet that served as a reminder to what they had loss at every turn, in every grain of sand. What did he feel?

Earth was beautiful. Organic plains with flesh covered animals, the water of the oceans that sparkled just how she had said; the mountains covered in ice. Optimus had taken the ground bridge and searched around the Earth for some of the landmarks Lunarmis had spoken of, he was not disappointed.

He saw everything that she had spoken of, the sights astounded him; Earth was so beautiful. But he wished that she were here to show him.

Pain flooded his spark once more, jarring him out of his thoughts, and he sat upon his berth.

And he grieved for his lost spark-mate and sparkling.

He turned off his vocal capacitor, as to not make a sound; but his spark hummed loudly out if grief. None of his men would ever see him like this; their steely Prime. His emotions so locked away a telepath couldn't find it. But he was alone; no one could see or hear him mourn the loss of his love.

Days passed, weeks fallowed. Wheeljack came to Earth again along with Dreadwing, Bulkhead was hurt from Ton-EX, and Megatron tried to terraform Earth into a new Cybertron with the Omega keys. Optimus destroyed the Omega lock, and any hope of their home being restored, but not before Megatron created a base out of Jasper, terraforming it into Darkmount.

Now Optimus lay there, dying. The Decepticons had found their base, and destroyed it; the Autobots were now homeless. Optimus had pushed his team through the Ground Bridge, urging them to get to safety, but to leave him behind. Ratchet was hard to convince, yelling and screaming at him to not be a fool, to come with them. But Optimus was set on his way, and ordered them to leave.

Optimus' intakes came in gasps and were labored, trying desperately to cool his sizzling frame. He couldn't get past the haze as a bot by the name of Smokescreen came by his battered frame, he didn't remember what had transpired between them after.

His world dimmed around him, carnage fading to blackness. A light feeling came to his spark and the pain left. Optimus' intakes were steady and frame was cool, he onlined his optics.

The world around him was not as he remembered.

Organic life mixed with cybernetic; tall winding trees stood by pillars of glowing crystals, grass sprouted from metallic ground, and a small river flowed and ran across a rainbow of energon crystals. He could hear calls of wild life, organic and not. It dazzled his optics, the sheer beauty of the natural cohabiting of his home and Earth's nature, made him want to lay there and never leave.

"Well, you can do that, though I would advise against it, my Love."

Optimus' spark stopped at those words, words spoken in a gentle laugh that soothed the audios and calmed the evilest of sparks. A voice he had long since thought erased from his memory core, but how could that be possible? He listened to that voice for vorns, almost his whole existence, and could listen to it forever more. Servos shook slightly as he turned slowly, facing the voice.

Sitting, not four meters from him, was the femme he had longed to see for the past eight and a half million years. Her frame glistened in the light, the paint glossy and buffed to perfection. Audio fins twitched slightly on the sides of her helm, the blue wires trembling to catch the vibrations in the air. A short spike sat at the crown of her helm and came down to form a ridge between her optics. The glass of her windshield reflected the light of the bright sun, casting rays of light into the shadows of the forest. Double wings twitched on her back, perched high in happiness. This wasn't Lunarmis.

This was MoonStrider.

All the changes of being named Prime were gone; the extended audios, the extra meters added to her height, the spikes on her back, the bulky armor, was all gone. There sat MoonStrider, the large, slim seeker with strange audios and a knack for causing trouble. Her golden optics were filled with an immeasurable amount of love, scrunched up with the large smile she was displaying.

Optimus covered the bottom half of his face plates with his servo, containing his sobs. But they were not cries of sadness, no; they were of pure and utter **joy** and **happiness.** His optics misted before blue tears of coolant escaped, he couldn't help it. He flung himself at the femme.

His smaller frame collided with hers, and a laugh escaped the seeker. Optimus looked _up_ at the femme in surprise. If she had lost a few meters to her frame, he would be quite a bit taller than her, but he was looking _up_. He then looked down, and let out a relived and happy laugh.

"Great to see you, too, Orion."

He was Orion again.

His frame was back to its original size and mass as it was before the war, before Megatronus left. Orion pushed those thoughts far away from his processor, concentrating just on the femme before him.

They snuggled close, MoonStrider curling around the small Orion. The pair of sparks hummed in sync, harmonizing beautifully. Two pairs of optics roamed the opposite's face plates, drinking in the sight of the other in their arms, peace settled into heavy sparks.

"You know," MoonStrider whispered. "You can't stay." Sadness and understanding dancing through Orion's blue optics as he looked up to the femme.

"Must I?" He whispered, trying so desperately to keep this moment.

The light from the young sun warmed their frames as MoonStrider searched for something on Orion's face, she found it. Releasing Orion, she reached into her subspace and pulled out two items. Orion looked at them, smiling at the well-known items.

They were two of MoonStrider's most treasured possessions. One was a data pad, well-worn around the edges; small glyphs were engraved all over it creating a piece of art that Orion loved. He had seen MoonStrider with this data pad many times, though he never knew what was in it.

The other object was pendant of some sort that was worn on the front of the chassis, right above the spark. It was quite beautiful, the shiny white gold of the base metal, plates made of precious minerals with the colors ebony, blue, and silver. Small stones and soft glowing crystals swirled around to create MoonStrider's family crest, an ancient Cybertronian glyph with smaller glyphs surrounding it in a pentagon shape. Orion couldn't read the writing, but it was still beautiful in every way.

MoonStrider placed the items into Orion's servos, gently curling his digits around them. Orion whispered the femme's name, looking up at her in a slightly confused and awed look.

"Keep them with you; I want you to have them." MoonStrider looked down at the small mech in her lap, pure love radiating from her golden optics. Orion just nodded, at a loss of words.

"They need you, Orion. It is not yet your time to join the Matrix." A tender servo brushed across Orion's face plates. "You inspire so many of us; you are the beacon in the dark. Bots rally behind you."

"I never wanted to be a Prime." Orion gritted his denta, sadness consuming him at the thought of not being able to stay with MoonStrider.

"Fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing, Orion." Orion chucked at the line, remembering the time when he used to say that.

A sad look crossed MoonStrider's face plates, and she stood from her spot, pulling Orion with her.

"It's time for you to go." She whispered.

"What? No! Not yet, please!" Orion desperately grasped at the femme's frame, clinging to it with all his strength; desperate for a few more moments with his love. MoonStrider just smiled, that Primus damned infectious smile. She bent down slightly, coming face to face with Orion, who was trying- and failing- to contain his emotions. But that was no use; something was tearing at his walls and kicking them down, letting out all of his pent-up emotions like a flood gate.

"You must," she whispered lovingly. "Don't worry; we'll see one another again." That brought Orion up short, staring up at the femme with wide optics. She raised an optic ridge. What? Think Primus doesn't let sparkmates stay together in the Matrix?" She teased, Orion just smiled- his hope restored. MoonStrider leaned down,

And their mouth plates connected.

A jolt swept through Orion's frame, every wire and cable, electrified. His spark flared with life as MoonStrider kissed him with all the love in the universe. His Optics were open, wide with surprise, and he was able to see it.

The ground fell away, the beautiful scenery melting into nothing like Orion had ever seen before.

It was the Matrix.

A galaxy of sparks swirled around a large light, the music of the humming sparks more beautiful than anything he had ever heard. The sparks glowed and fluttered, a multitude of colors swirling and dancing. He stared down at the galaxy, such beautiful chaos. Sparks broke away from the swirl, surrounding him and MoonStrider. The flickered, disappearing, but them coming back as something that made Orion sob in happiness. Mechs and Femmes he had known, personal or not, were there.

Ironhide, Jazz, Sentinel, Preceptor, Elita-one, Chromina, Kup, First Aid, Prowl, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and more. They smiled at him, embracing his spark in a cocoon of love and comfort. Orion laughed; his spark light.

He closed his optics, a smile gracing his face plates.

And embraced life


	4. Past, Present, Future :The End

**Past, Present, and Future: the End.**

Megatron gazed out at the Earth before him, glaring; as if his red optics could burn it to a crisp with one look. He hated and loved the tiny organic planet, with its disgusting organic creatures that crawled of the surface like scraplets, but the uninhabited nature was a sight to see.

The Autobots had won at Darkmound, with Optimus in the lead.

Optimus

The Prime had come back from his little dance with death, with upgrades to boot. Thicker, taller, stronger; the Prime had him hard pressed to beat. But he was Lord Megatron, and had gotten away in one piece, though cursing the Prime's name. But it wasn't Optimus' new frame that had him beet; it was the unquenchable fire that was light in the Prime's optics, a fire that Megatron hadn't seen in him since the start of the war.

Optimus Prime had something to truly fight for.

Megatron was alone, standing there; looking through a window to a world that he had heard in stories. There he allowed himself to remember and reflect.

Megatron let a small smile grace his face plates, everything was going according to Lunarmis' plan.

**Past **

Megatronus walked down a vacant street in Iacon, thoughts and worry chewing through his processor.

He had come to Iacon to see MoonStrider and Orion, traveling from his home in Kaon, a quite nasty place, full of gladiators and criminals; lower class bots lived there in poverty, barely making much to survive on. Megatronus was a gladiator himself, demolishing bots that were thrown into the arena in a high-crazed frenzy, whether the bots were willing or not. But only one can come out alive, two if a tag team, but Megatronus was a solo, undefeated gladiator with a reputation for destruction.

But one day, during a rather gruesome battle, the broadcaster of the fight called out that there was to be a prize to the last mech- or team- standing. This gained the attention of everyone in the arena: gladiators and audience. A platform was lifted out of the center of the pit, the supposed 'prize' on it.

It was a femme, a rather pretty one, too; and from some of the unconcealed gasps in the audience, well known as well. But nobot said a word.

She was quite large for a femme, her helm coming up to Megatronus' shoulders if standing. Large, graceful wings twitched on her back, a clamp at their base holding them, making those with wings or door wings flinch in sympathy for the seeker. Nobot knew how they had caught the seeker, being as swift as they were, but the energon running steadily down from in-between her wings answered the question. It was obvious that she was no mere slave, her gleaming paint-job and accents to her frame being obvious signs to her family's wealth. No, the femme was abducted. She knelt there in chains and cuffs, a set of metal bands acting as a blindfold and gag to her senses. She didn't move, without her strange audio receptors twitching, she could have been a statue for all they knew. But Megatronus was smart; he looked at the femme with questions in his blue optics, not uncovered lust and possessiveness like the gladiators around him. A strange lurch had come into his spark at that moment, and he made his decision.

**He** was going to win the femme.

The buzzer went off, and the arena became a place of chaos. Mechs fought like animals, tearing into one another with a berserk look in their optics and their processors clouded with thoughts of getting the femme and claiming her. But Megatron was smart.

Processor clear of everything but the battle ahead and around him, he fought and defeated every mech around him with precision. His clear, focused mind was cut off by a roar of surprise from the crowd. Megatronus quickly defeated the mech before him and turned to the commotion. What he saw surprised him, but made him grin like a psychopath.

The femme was free.

She had waited until all attention was driven to the fight and away from her before she made her escape. The cuffs that had held her were open and the metal bands lay next to them.

Mechs ran at the femme, attempting to overpower the seemingly weaker being, but they underestimated her, and paid for it; with their dignity.

Mechs fell before her like flies, some missing parts. She danced through them, whips coming from each wrist, electricity conducted down their long lengths. One could tell she was well trained; nobot could get such a natural grace. Nobot could touch her. Megatronus turned back to the fight, the gin staying upon his face plates the whole time.

Fighting, the sound of metal crunching under alloyed fists was all but natural for the mech. Fighting was all he had ever known, and then he felt a bump on his back. Turning, ready for a fight, for another victory, he stopped short. It was the femme. She was in the same stance as him, ready to fight. Megatronus just looked upon the femme in curiosity, and she'd seemed confused about that. He then peered over the femme's shoulder, and spotted a mech about to strike the unsuspecting femme. He had moved when she did.

Bringing his blade up, Megatronus stabbed the mech in the face, offlineing him. A burst of sparks and crackles of electricity sounded just behind him. Turning his helm, he had looked to see a mech, dead with an electrified blade running through his own helm. He had fallowed the blade, to a wrist, up an arm; to see the frame and guarded face plates of the femme, that frame now pressed flush against his own. The retraction of blades was heard, as were the roars of the crowd. More mechs had come at them and a truce was settled between them, they would fight together.

After that was a blur for Megatronus, the spray of energon, the battle calls, and the cries of pain. They had worked together, back to back; defeating mechs had never been so easy for the silver gladiator. A hook of arms as he swung her around to her next opponent, a kick as she sent him his; piles grew and the crowd went wild and the battle ended as swift as it had come.

They had stood face to face; her stance was of challenge, challenging his next move. But he did nothing, just held out his servo and offered his designation. The femme was quiet, but after a klick, retracted her battle mask and did the same.

That was the beginning of Megatronus and MoonStrider.

Now the mighty gladiator paced, his face plates set in a scowl. He had been informed by Ratchet that the duo had been summoned by the council, but for what he didn't know. But Megatronus knew something.

They were late; and by the ach of a closed bond, something wasn't right.

So Megatronus paced. It had taken Ratchet, Ironhide, and a few others to deter the silver mech from storming into the Hall and grabbing his friends. Though no one would really consider them friends anymore, more like a trine with one seeker, one flyer, and one grounder. It was an unheard of and abnormal predicament, but who's to say they were normal? They were a trine, bond and all, though one in their numbers was oblivious. Orion knew they had strong bonds, abnormally strong ones, but he didn't know exactly **what** they meant. The bonding was accidental. Accidental but amazing and well appreciated.

A noise came from an ally near Megatronus. While he would usually ignore it, something told him not to, and he looked. And was ever so glad he did.

"MoonStrider!" Megatronus ran to the injured femme, his peds splashing in fallen energon.

Energon ran lake steams down her frame, gathering in the puddle he was standing in as he crouched down. Rips and gashes littered her frame, each gushing a bit more of her life-force.

"Megatronus…" The femme's voice was still strong, but pulsed with a fury that made a shudder run up the mech's spinal strut. What had her in such a fury? Was it whatever had caused this?

MoonStrider uncurled her arms, what sat there made Megatronus grit his denta plates in anger and protectiveness. Orion was there, his small frame littered with dents and missing plates, exposing the majority of his protoform to the cruel environment around them. It was clear to Megatronus that they had been attacked, but a thought loomed in the back of his processer as to what- based on injuries- had really happened. He scooped up the femme and broken archivist in his arms and started a fast pace to the medic he trusted with his life: Ratchet.

Megatronus rushed down allies and roads, trying desperately to get to the medic, Primus be damned if somebot saw. Finally, the gladiator burst through the doors of Ratchet's clinic. The place was small, but popular with bots that knew where to find the orange and white mech. A small waiting area was in one corner while a small desk was on the other; a door in the back led to the med-bay. That's where Megatronus stormed.

"Ratchet," The gladiator hollered. Setting the femme on a berth, he pried Orion from her servos; the femme snarling and hissing, and trying desperately to get the tiny archivist back into her arms. The medic of choice marched into his med-bay, proclaiming that somebot better have been gravely injured for them to wake him from recharge, or he was going to bash some helms. Ratchets proclamations died down at the sight of the trio. Megatronus was covered in MoonStrider's energon, while said femme looked like she had taken a dunk in a lake; Orion was almost all the way down to his protoform, few pieces that were left covered minuscule parts of his legs and arms.

"What the pit happened to them?" Ratchet asked in a horse whisper as he walked to the struggling, quickly sedating her and laying her back on the berth. A small groan came from the femme's vocalizers. Megatronus flipped the femme onto her front, revealing her back. Megatronus growled.

He hadn't been paying attention, but her wings were gone, nothing but sparking, leaking stumps of metal. But the source of his growl was of the numerous gashes on her frame, one would have thought she had put her back to Blackout's propellers.

"Grab a rag and start cleaning her off, I need to get her stabilized." Megatronus did as he was asked, wiping off the energon that coated her back. A keen came from the frame under him. How was she feeling this? She was out cold? A small glow caught his optic, and it wasn't the glow of energon.

"Ratchet!" The medic rushed over, and looked to where Megatronus pointed. Corseting in every language her knew, Ratchet hooked up numerous energon cords, trying to replenish her dwindling supplies. He quickly shoved Megatronus to the door.

"I need to place her spark in an incubator, her frame is too unstable." With one last shove, Megatronus was cast out into the waiting area. Megatronus growled; his thoughts left to dwell on what might have happened. How did this happen? Were they attacked on their way there or on their way back?

Or during?

Megatronus promptly deleted that thought from his processor; the possibility of that assumption was absurd. What reason would the Council have for attacking Orion and MoonStrider? Sure, they had started to cause a movement; movements towards a cast-system free Cybertron and a few other smaller things. But surly that wasn't the case, their movement was only popular in the lower casts and wasn't that large.

Megatronus didn't know how wrong he was. The movement was large, larger than he would have ever thought. But the Council knew, and they didn't like it. More and more bots were joining the movement, rallying behind the words of an inspiring trio. It was causing a stir up, the higher casts had caught wind of the trio, and their words; even they were rising up over the Council.

So they were summoned.

Three cycles past, and MoonStrider's frame was stable, with some changes.

Megatronus barley recognized her, but he automatically saw something was off with the femme when she emerged from the med-bay. She was tall, taller than Megatronus now. Her wings were gone and her frame radiated an aura that demanded respect and broadcasted leadership and power. But Megatronus reeled back when he saw the runes engraved upon the sides of her face plates.

The markings of the Prime

He had stared-flabbergasted- at the silver Prime before him.

"Megatronus…" Said mech didn't like the look in the femme's optics, so haunting, filled with that hidden rage.

"MoonStrider-"

"Lunarmis" She whispered.

"What?"

"My designation, its Lunarmis Prime now," sadness laced her voice. Megatronus embraced the femme, his arms wrapping around her chassis.

"You will always be MoonStrider to me, femme." He scolded the her, a light laugh was heard. There was silence for a few minutes, the two not needing the words. But Megatronus had to break the silence.

"What happened?" The femme tensed under his servos. He led her to the chairs in the waiting room, happy that the clinic was empty apart from them and the medic with Orion in the other room. Megatronus waited for the femme to start.

"Orion and I were summoned to meet with the Council," she started. "We had thought it was because of the movement the three of us had started, that they were either going to talk to us about us stopping the movement all together, or how to make it happen.

Me and Orion had walked into the main room, where the Council sat, waiting for us. They just… stared at us, for a moment. Before something happened and I blacked out for a moment and when I woke up, I was chained to the ground on my knees. Orion was lying on the floor a few meters away from me, though, he wasn't chained down.

The Council members started entering then, walking out onto the floor instead of taking their seats. Alpha Tron and Sentinel were not there. Orion had then woken up, and two mechs had grabbed him. He was so small-so fragile-compared to them, Megatronus." Anguish leaked into the femme's voice, seeping through the cracks in the wall of the closed bond, effecting Megatronus.

"Femme," said femme glanced up at him from the spot that seemed so enthralling during her story. "Femme, open the bond-"

"No, I don't want you to see it." She knew that he would look into her spark for the memory, to see for himself.

"Let me in, MoonStrider." Seldom did Megatronus use her full designation, and he felt the wall slip down.

Megatronus was bombarded with images and feelings- anger and anguish the most prominent.

Chained to the ground, the painful feeling of a barbed energon whip slashing through armored plates like foil, striking delicate protoform. Orion, little archivist Orion, was screaming as mechs ripped and tore off plates of thin armor, exposing his protoform to the universe, some even coming off with some more –attached- plating. Energon leaked from optics and wounds as mechs bit and nibbled at cables and protoform mesh.

He felt her terror as she screamed for them to please stop, to take her instead, for Orion to know that it will be OK and to stay strong. With every yell, every plea, the barbed end of the energon whip came down, slashing and tearing. Her energon was flung across the floor and across the holders.

Orion's screams and pleas for them to stop ran through adios, MoonStrider was forced to watch as they took him, helpless to do anything. The sound he made when the first mech entered him would haunt both MoonStrider and Megatronus for the rest of their cycles. His optics stared into hers, the agony, the wish for it all to end, was so clear in his optics.

One mech, then another, then another, then another. They realized why Sentinel and Alpha Tron weren't here; they would have killed these mechs.

The energon whip got past protoform, and sliced through a corner of MoonStrider's spark chamber. Her spark had gone wild, panic running like wild fire. The Council had left after that, ordering the deposal of them in the morning. Orion was knocked offline, and she couldn't remember how she had gotten free of the bindings. She had picked up Orion and fled, trying to at least save her little archivist, even at the cost of her own life. She had then met Megatronus.

Megatronus pulled from the memory, emotions a whirlwind inside his processor. Anger, anguish, rage, sadness, shock- all were present. He looked at the femme.

"What do we do now?" he whispered hoarsely. MoonStrider fixed him with a determined, possessive stare.

"We're going to war,

For Orion"

**Present**

Orion's memories were wiped, he couldn't even remember what grade of energon he had had that morning, which was good. MoonStrider explained how she had come up with the plan while Ratchet had worked upon her frame, but she had a strange experience while out. Her processor had drifted; a strange feeling had come upon her, like somebot was in her helm with her. She had been bombarded by thoughts that were not her own, images had flashed before her optics of the Council and other bots of higher power, each as corrupt as the next. She had sensed great sadness, such disappointment, that she had bowed her helm in shame. From that experience, she had gained what they needed for them to start the war: Primus' blessing and permission. He had given MoonStrider her new title, and told her to tread carefully.

The war started a vorn after, Megatronus at the front. Megatronus had stubbornly declared that MoonStrider –now Lunarmis- would be with the Autobots, to 'gain valuable information on the Council's whereabouts' as he had stated. Nobot suspected that the femme Prime was secretly the processors behind the newly dubbed Decepticon faction; quite a fitting designation in Megatronus' optics, he and Lunarmis had shared quite a laugh about it.

Neither Megatronus nor Lunarmis ever regretted starting the war, though they did regret the casualties. They had to protect Orion, their little Orion, and every other bot on Cybertron from their hidden tyranny; didn't mean they couldn't rip apart the Council with enthusiasm, though.

Orion became Optimus Prime -meaning 'best first'- the two were sad that their little Orion had to change, but nothing could be perfect. Megatronus then attacked Iacon, where the Council had been meeting to discuss tactics. He named himself 'Lord Megatron' –much to the snickers of Lunarmis- and fought, offing four Council members with his own servos. He had to fight Optimus, much to his charge, but Lunarmis had reassured that she would comfort him, and get his aft moving back in gear.

Over the next few vorns Megatron had sliced through half of the Council, and a majority of the other mechs and femmes that Primus had shown Lunarmis, some were rather shocking. Lunarmis hadn't the chance to dismember any of Orion's captors, but made up for it by giving very detailed descriptions, Megatron got quite a list of ideas from the enraged femme. The thing she called 'castration' was commonly mentioned.

But plans were scrambled when something unexpected happened.

Shockwave, one of his most loyal, but most blind to the true cause of the Decepticons, had brought Lunarmis in, as a gift to him. That bundle of plating and wires, with little arches of electricity jumping from a few severed or short circuited wires. What did Shockwave do? Rip her plating off?! Megatron had then learned over the bond that she had lost a hefty amount of armor when the roof of her quarters had crumbled down on her.

Megatron wasn't thinking when he had thrown the purple scientist across the room, he wasn't thinking of the long term effects; not from actually hurting the mech, but _why_ he had. He was protecting Lunarmis, showing weakness; and in war, there was no room for weakness. Lunarmis told him this, and what must happen, and he hated it. By _Primus_, he **hated** it! The most spark ripping conversation happened in that moment of silence, a war of opinions over their bond.

Megatron had caved, going with the femme's plan.

He would forever regret that decision.

"Why, Megatronus? Why did you leave us?" On the outside, her voice was filled with betrayal and pain, a stark contrast to what yelled at him in his spark**. Remember Megatronus, remember! Remember why we started this! Remember for whom! For Cybertron! For all of us! FOR ORION!**

Rage, screams of metal, splatters of energon; all in the background as he complied, and remembered. Orion, beaten and broken, energon flowing out of places only lovers knew of. The rage from MoonStrider mingled with his own, possessive thoughts and claiming memories flowing through them.

Orion was theirs; nobot else's. Their sparks and minds had claimed him, theirs to have, theirs to protect, theirs to hold. Nobot could harm him, he was theirs. And as the lights had dimmed from the femme's optics, her life extinguishing, she sent one last message over their splintered and shattered bond.

**_For Orion_**

Future

Megatron knelt there, dying; a recurring theme if he did say so himself. Though, this was a new one. He gazed down at the Star Saber, the sword gutting out of his chassis like pillar of death, of just his at least. The past flashed before his optics, forcing him to remember.

Cybertron was gone, an uninhabitable pile of scrap metal. The Decepticons had fled to Earth for its valuable resources, for energon had been seeded there at the beginning of the war. A flurry of fights with Autobots, space bridges blowing up, mechs offlining, dark energon, and defeating titans. The Omega keys being restored and Cybertron was well on its way to coming back. But the predacon rebelled, Autobots shown up, and the plan went straight out the window.

He had shot Bumblebee, an accident on his part; he was aiming for the Star Saber, though the young scout had come back after falling into the cyber-matter, voice healed and all. Megatron regretted having to pull the yellow bug's voice box from him, he had a very nice, youthful voice; it reminded him of Orion's voice. If Megatron could, he would thank the little scout, for he had just finished what MoonStrider and him-self had started oh so long ago.

Megatron was never going to win, he himself made sure of that. Energon appearing conveniently, the relics almost being **handed over, **sending transmissions to bots to come to earth to aid Optimus. Yes, now the last part is complete; giving Optimus a way to restore Cybertron. And his death of course. And Optimus would never know, he would never know that this war started over him, to protect him.

"You took my voice; you will never take anything from anyone ever again." Oh little scout, if you only knew what I gave in return. Megatron would have smirked, but that might give a weird impression.

To the pit with it! Might as well give them something to worriedly dwell upon for vorns to come.

Megatron turned his helm slightly to Optimus, peering at him from the corners of his optics. Optimus had a purely shocked look on his face, though relief came as well when he looked at the yellow bug. Optimus then looked into Megatron's red optics, shock and a bit of sadness traced in his blue optics. Megatron grinned and dropped his own optic color, returning them to their original color. A deep sapphire blue; the optics of Megatronus the gladiator. He could hear the programs stop in Optimus' helm, the sight to shocking and unpredicted for his processors to handle. Megatronus winked once, his old humor shinning in his optics.

Finally, Megatronus succumbed to his wounds, and he left the realm of the living forever.

And all he could think of as he left was of how he just **_knew_** that MoonStrider was going to hit him when he got there.


End file.
